


Take My Arm In Yours (And Don't Let Go)

by scarheadedferret



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Christmas, Crucio Curse, DMLE | Department of Magical Law Enforcement (Harry Potter), Draco still feels pain from the crucio, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter is a Dork, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry Potter, References to Drugs, please read the notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21896131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarheadedferret/pseuds/scarheadedferret
Summary: The aftershocks of the war are still hard-hitting even after 5 years since its end. With the effects from the Crucio baring a burden on his health, topped with a stressful investigation at the Ministry and his strange relationship with Potter, Draco's December is one he's certain he won't forget.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Rolf Scamander, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: THIS FIC WILL INCLUDE DETAILS OF SEIZURES, if that sort of content may be triggering for you please do not read this work. Basically Draco suffers from effects from the Crucio and occasionally that includes a black out or seizure, it doesn't happen often in the fic- but it does happen and I'll include warnings when it does. 
> 
> Special thanks to @thechosenferret @its-the-ultimate-fangay @cmfrtcrwd @lordmushroomcat and several others for help beta-ing this!!! I'm really really grateful
> 
> This is the first work I've published in a really long time. School has gotten pretty rough, and I've started working and am doing a varsity sport, so it's been hard to focus on writing, but I'm really happy with this so I hope y'all enjoy it!
> 
> Happy holidays!!!!! - Tal <3

Muggle holidays had always been a paradox for Draco. Although religion had never really been a big hit among wizards (Christ was obviously just an overly-ambitious Muggle-born), they still celebrated the most popular ones: Christmas, Easter, etc. However, they were celebrated more for the sake of celebrating rather than some moral, religious meaning. 

Despite the fact that the Malfoy’s were involving themselves in a holiday with a mainly Muggle history, the Manor never failed to hold its share of decorations come Christmas-time. The Christmas trees were always grandly decorated, 17 feet tall with a hundred silver baubles and a golden garland that reflected stars across the parlor. _Nothing like these_ , Draco thought as he looked at the dull and simple garlands that were strung across the lampposts in Muggle London. 

He sniffled, pulling his thick coat closer to his frame as he walked down the street that lead to the Ministry, forever cursing the policy of not allowing apparation within one mile of the building. (There was little chance that he would let himself step into a toilet- for Merlin’s sake- so walking it was.) 

The Muggle garlands shook as the windchill swept through the street, slicing through Draco’s cloak even with a warming charm. It felt impossible to keep warm when even his magic couldn’t help much. Approaching the building, Draco readjusted the bag in his grip with the help of a muttered levitation charm, and reached out a gloved hand for the east-side entrance to the ministry (which appeared to Muggles as a sewing shop that was always closed). Just as his fingers neared a hair’s width from the door handle, another gloved hand that was not Draco’s own wrapped around it instead. The door was opened for him, and Draco turned slowly to the owner of the gloved hand. Bright green eyes- much brighter than the garlands- Draco noted, were looking at him brightly above a smug grin. 

“You go first, Malfoy,” Potter told him with a head nod towards the entrance. Draco looked between the door and Potter before huffing and squaring his shoulders.

“I don't need your help, you know,” Draco told him as they walked through the long corridor that branched off into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. 

“I know,” Potter said cheerfully, and Draco would strangle him were his hands not occupied. 

“I’m not a damsel in distress,” Draco said with a glare as he reached his office, Potter continuing down the corridor to his own. 

“I know!” Potter called. Draco shut his office door with a groan. He set his bag atop his desk and sighed softly. 

Ever since they had both been put in the same wing of the DMLE, Potter had constantly made it his aggravating mission to help Draco out in any miniscule way possible. Opening doors, carrying his bags, lending him an extra coat, giving him cups of tea when they both stayed late. For almost every helpful action Potter gave Draco, Draco would deny his help- but the stubborn git had not once backed down- despite Draco’s very apparent annoyance. Although he would never admit it, a part of Draco knew that the relationship between himself and Potter had developed into something akin to a friendship. Once, while they were walking to a curry place to pick up lunch, Potter had asked Draco if his benevolence truly bothered Draco or made him uncomfortable. 

“ _Well, the idiotic Gryffindor in you does need some way to express itself- or else I think you would burst, Potter,”_ Draco had said, and Potter had beamed so greatly that the street lamps seemed to dim beside him. Draco had rolled his eyes, and Potter then proceeded to sit them down at a table together, knocking their feet under the table and laughing obscenely through a mouthful of curry while they talked about Quidditch or school- Draco couldn’t really remember. All he had remembered was the warm feeling that had pooled in his gut- that wasn’t solely from the hot chicken curry they were eating from tin containers. When he had returned from lunch, he had ignored the comment that his co-worker Mona had made about the blush that had settled on his cheeks, glaring as she chuckled. 

Draco’s office was shared with two other DMLE investigators: Mona Lambard and Zacharias Smith, both of whom hold extremely contrasting personalities, so much so that their interactions were the most common source of his headaches. 

While Smith was obnoxious and brash, Mona- who had been two years above them during Draco and Smith’s time at school- was kind and very headstrong. In the beginning, Draco had tried his best to remain silent unless necessary; he needed to appear as unapproachable as he could in order to avoid any possible confrontations. Draco had gained enough beatings and verbal lashings following the end of the war to understand that keeping his mouth shut at all times was in his best interest.

Mona, on the other hand had, for some unknown reason, decided to bypass any of the walls he had put up in front of her. She constantly reviewed her reports with him, even if he shared no response, and always filled him in on the most recent and notable Ministry gossip. Despite the annoyance she often supplied, Draco had grown somewhat fond of her over the two years they had shared an office space together. 

None of which could be said in the same way for Smith. In all the time they had worked together, Draco was certain that there was not one look Smith had given him that was not full of disgust, anger, or both. _And rightfully so._ Draco often told himself. As much as he despised Smith, he understood that the man’s loathing towards him did not come without premise. In fact, a handful of harmful looks and words throughout the week were trivial compared to some other interactions he has had in the past with those who had put it upon themselves to punish Draco themself for his crimes. 

Draco opened up his bag, retrieving the case file on the drug he and Smith were currently investigating. The lack of information they had on the case made him want to rip his hair out on a daily basis, and having to deal with Smith made it _that much_ better. Sighing, he _accioed_ his mug into his hand and poured some tea into it from the kettle they kept handy around the room, sipping it idly before he truly sat down and began his day. 

“That’s the second time you’ve signed in the past-” Mona glimpsed at the clock, “Two minutes- what’s wrong?” She asked, Draco quirked up one end of his mouth in irritation. 

“I really can’t see how it’s your concern,” Draco told her and the witch laughed.

“You fill the whole space with negativity and soon we’ll all have that dreaded, grim look on our faces,” She said, thick and dark curls bouncing as she nodded to herself. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” He said, and Mona laughed. Draco’s mouth quirked up slightly, and Mona then huffed. 

“Honestly, though, why the extensively long face?” She questioned, and Draco rolled his eyes at her insistence.

“There’s nothing wrong, I’ve just been feeling a bit more sick recently, if you must know- probably lack of sleep,” He explained, and Mona nodded but her eyes were still looking him over questioningly. “Really, that’s all it is,” He said again, Mona tilted her head. 

“That’s not a very convincing statement, you know, ‘that’s all it is,’” She told him inquisitively. Draco huffed and sipped more from his tea.

“Then enjoy cracking the nonexistent mystery that is the cause of my sighing,” He told her, floating the teapot over to Mona’s desk so she could refill her own mug.

“One more thing about the _bloody sighing_ ,” Smith growled from his desk. Draco opted to take another sip from his cup, diving into the case file for the investigation. It would be a long time until the end of his shift, Draco thought dismally, holding back a third sigh (for Mona’s sake). 

***

Draco shouldn’t really have been surprised when Potter all but barged into their small office space at 12:03 pm, chewing on what appeared to be a biscuit and holding a book in his other hand.

“Yes, Potter?” Draco asked, chin resting boredly in the palm of his hand.

“You’re on the Roboro case aren’t you? Smith too?” Potter asked, jaw now clenched with anticipation. There was still a crumb from the biscuit on the corner of his mouth that Draco was focused on with slight disgust, but he re-centered his gaze with a slight head tilt as he looked at Potter. Smith was looking attentively at Potter with an equally curious expression, his eyebrows furrowed.

“And what of it?” Draco asked, “Do you have something?” He asked, eyes flicking to the book, and Potter smiled and nodded.

“Well there’s been an occurrence of ten Muggle deaths- all in Wizarding London- via heart attack or seizure. But no one knows how they got into Wizarding London or why,” he said quickly, Draco and Smith didn’t reply, both silently urging him to continue. “I’m on the case ‘cause Robards thought that the cause of the deaths was due to a mutated Draught of Living Death- but when I was looking for patterns- I found out that they all had traces of a component from this plant in their system,” Potter said, opening the book he had been holding and setting it on Draco’s desk. Smith, with his mouth set firmly in a straight line, got up and stood beside Potter as they looked at the page he was referring too. “ _Prunella Evalesco,_ the roots of this plant are usually used to heal wounds, but if used too much-”

“Their bodies can’t handle it,” Draco finished for him and Potter nodded, green eyes growing bright with excitement.  
“Yeah! The plant is supposed to help strengthen and heal them if they faced a minor wound, but too much strength- and their body is overwhelmed by the plant’s chemicals in their system- and as a result they suffer a seizure or a heart attack.”

Despite how awful the subject of their conversation was, Potter was smiling, eyes ablaze and determined. The look he had was a tad frightening, Draco thought idly, but his determination made it so very endearing. Draco’s gaze flicked to Mona- who he had nearly forgotten was in their presence- as she had been strangely quiet ever since Potter entered the room. _Maybe she’s intimidated_ , Draco thought. She was looking at Potter with an unreadable expression on her face, finger tapping on the edge of her desk.  
“But what does this have to do with the Roboro file?” Smith asked, raising a brow at Potter who’s smile grew, and Draco felt a small blush form on his cheeks at the sight. _Merlin, help me._

“That’s the thing! I think it’s more than just a drug for Muggles- I think it’s the lead-” Draco’s eyes widened as Potter spoke, _this means-_ “The main component of Roboro!” Potter said triumphantly. Roboro, the center of their investigation, was a highly addictive and extremely powerful drug that had been circulating underground for months before the Ministry picked up on it. 

The potion lead to unusual instances of wizards being able to perform spells much stronger and accurate than normal; its increasing popularity heightened the pressure on Draco and Smith to solve the case and shut down its production and distribution as quickly as possible. “I think it has the same capability to strengthen wizards as it does for Muggles, but with their magical-power instead of their wounds,” Potter finished, an excited flush strongly present on his face. Draco and Smith looked at each other in shock, looked to Potter, and then stood up rapidly. 

“Merlin, who knew there was a brain underneath all of that hair,” Draco said quietly. He smiled greatly at the ex-Gryffindor, who returned it immediately, despite Draco’s quip at him. “But how do you know for certain that it affects wizards too?” He questioned and Smith dipped his head forward at Potter expectedly. 

“That’s the thing, I may need your help with that,” he said sheepishly. Draco rolled his eyes at Potter fondly, that wouldn’t be a problem. The information he had given them was more than enough to work with, and he already has an inkling that Potter’s deductions were correct.

“Then we’ll run some tests then, I reckon we’ll have to get permission from the Minister, but that won’t be any trouble if he’s as frustrated as we are.” It felt as though he and Smith had been running in circles over this case, weeks worth of work leading them to dead-ends and false leads. But now they had _something,_ Draco could’ve kissed Potter in that moment. _Don’t deny that you want to._ A voice muttered in his head and Draco flinched. Potter cocked his head at him in confusion. “Malfoy?” He asked, concern laced in his voice. 

“Fine, just excited,” He said steadily, giving Potter a small smile.

“Feels good to get something beyond a vague witness account,” Smith said gruffly, mouth quirked into a small smile, and Draco was surprised. Smith had looked kindly towards Draco, for once. Despite his shock, Draco schooled his expression and nodded at Smith in agreement.

“We’ve gotten our breakthrough,” he said, smirking, and Smith’s expression matched his. Potter coughed and Draco looked back to him to see the git tapping his fingers together nervously. “What is it?”

“Well, this means we might have to stay till after five,” Potter said quietly. Draco was sure he and Smith’s groans could be heard throughout the entire DMLE. Mona had still said nothing. 

***

When the clock on top of the door chimed 11:00 pm, he and Smith decided to call it a night. Draco didn’t know if he should’ve felt relief or dread when they did. The thought of his armchair, fireplace, and Bun (his cat), were all very appealing. However, even the thought of walking the long and cold mile to the apparation point seemed to tire his body out. Snow was gently falling beyond the window of their office, and Draco watched it with discontent. _That bloody snow. It’s a shame it’s so cold, Mother would think it’s pretty._ Draco thought, reminded of the way his weakened mother would sit in the parlor behind the large windows, watching the snow gradually cover the Manor in a white blanket. She had died in the spring, a year after the war, and right when the snow was just finished melting. 

It often pained Draco to think of how broken his family had become. Lucius was rotting away in Azkaban, and Draco’s physical health wasn’t one to vouch for. A once strong and prideful Malfoy family, was now reduced to rubble. The war had taken its toll on them, and as the years passed, it felt impossible to recover from it. Draco, who was now the only sane and living Malfoy left, was in a state far worse than one would expect from a healthy 23 year old. Having been given the _Crucio_ from his Father, the Dark Lord, and the occasional Manor guest a myriad of times during the ages of 16 to 18, Draco was on a one-way path for long-lasting damage. 

No matter how many healing potions and remedies he used and researched, Draco had been facing a constant decline in his strength and stamina ever since he had first been given the _Crucio_ at the age of 16. As a result of the curse, he was often overtaken by cold spells, and sometimes blackouts- where he would simply lose consciousness and wake up a few minutes later at most. He knew there was no cure. The strength of the _Crucio_ was far beyond the help of common magical remedies. His own weakness was a constant source of his frustration. For how could he proudly call himself a Malfoy when he barely had the strength to be on his feet for more than fifteen minutes?

Stretching his legs under his desk and frowning, Draco then proceeded to spell his materials back into his bag, mentally preparing for his commute home. He looped his bag over his shoulder, waved a quick goodbye to Mona and Smith (not surprised when only Mona returned it), and headed out the door. 

Draco breathed sharply out through his nose upon seeing Potter leaning against the wall-space beside his own office’s door, tapping on one of those Muggle communication devices in strange earnest. Draco threw his scarf over the lower half of his face and proceeded forwards. The click of his boot-heels on the floor had Potter turning his head up, glasses crooked on his face. He grinned. 

“Cold already?” He asked, looking at Draco’s grey-woolen scarf. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“No- I’m sweltering,” He said monotonously through the fabric. Potter snorted, taking Draco’s bag- slowly, as though giving Draco time to stop him- from his hands. Draco did not object this time, it was a relief to have the weight of his bag gone from him, as most of his depleted energy was directed towards a warming spell. 

“Y’know Hermione just came back from Australia, so we’re inviting some of our year over for dinner next Tuesday,” Potter started, “And you’re very much welcome to come,” Potter said casually as they walked. Draco’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“I don’t think-”

“It was Hermione’s idea to invite you- and I wanted to anyways,” Potter cut him off. Silence overcame them, the dying chatter of the Ministry at 5:05 pm on a Thursday and their shoes on the floor the only noise permeating the space. 

“We’re not friends, Potter,” Draco said, a few moments later. Potter’s mouth tightened. 

“Well- then take it as a dinner for adversaries- will that satisfy you?” Potter quipped. 

“Maybe,” Draco replied quickly, and Potter’s head whipped towards him. 

“Really?” Potter asked excitedly, the man’s face lighting up like Teddy’s did when they put a slice of cake in front of him. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Draco rolled his eyes, though he secretly kept the image of Potter’s face looking so bright away in his mind. 

“As long Pansy is there, yes- _maybe_ ,” Draco said and Potter’s smile grew. 

“Yes! And yeah- Pansy’ll be there- as long as she and Gin don’t get into one of their day-long breakups again,” Potter told him, and Draco laughed through his nose a bit. They reached the outside, and Draco involuntarily shuddered, tears almost coming to his eyes as wind swept through him, ten times worse than it had felt that morning. “Malfoy?” Potter asked, voice and eyes filled with concern.

“Fine, Potter. Don’t get your snitch-themed boxers in a twist,” Draco grunted. Potter smiled- but his eyes still conveyed worry. 

“Here,” Potter said, and he began to unbutton his coat. To Draco’s confusion however, Potter didn’t take it off, but rather opened his arms. Draco flushed profusely. “C’mon,” Potter said, motioning him forwards with his hands.

“No- Potter, have you gone mad?” Draco asked him and Potter shook his head. 

“It’ll help-” he started, but Draco was already walking past him, ignoring the offer of warmth with all the dignity that remained in him. He _wasn’t_ a damsel. Draco coughed and cast his warming spell again. Potter caught up to him, and they walked beside one another once more in silence. The apparation point felt eons away. 

***

Bun was curled up on the kitchen table when Draco arrived home to his flat. He greeted the black cat with a gentle hand to the place between her eyes. She blinked her dark eyes at him in and twitched an ear in response. A chill swept through the apartment, and Draco started a fire up in the fireplace with a flick of his wand. Unfastening his coat, the image of Potter- arms extended and mouth downturned into a pout- flashed through his mind. His fingers clenched the fabric of his coat before he hung it up on the rack. 

“I don’t get it, Bun, why do I let him make me his charity case?” He asked the cat. “If he didn’t notice that pattern…" Draco sighed, "I can’t even do an investigation without him bumbling in.” Bun yawned, clicking her jaw at him in boredom. Draco huffed.

There was a part of his mind that told him to snap at Potter- make a big deal out of things and have him stop breathing over his neck- but there was another that reminded him of a bright smile, cloaks that weren’t his own being draped across his back, hands holding open doors and resting on his arm, awful jokes and arguments over Quidditch teams, biscuit crumbs and fierce green eyes. So many things that brightened up his day- even if only for a moment- that for some reason he couldn’t bear to lose. Bun leapt off the table and stretched out her back before trotting to the couch and meowing impatiently. 

“Alright I’m coming, I’m coming,” Draco said, prepared for a night of bad Muggle television, Bun on his lap, and the heavy weight that was Potter in his mind.

***

“Well, I think you should go,” Mona told him affirmatively the next morning. “It’ll be good for you,” 

“That sounds like something my mother would've said,” Draco replied, a bit amused. “And I’ve already promised Potter I would- so I must.” 

“You’re acting like it’s a chore!” Mona laughed. “Anyways, I’m off on my own date tonight,” She smiled, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers, and Draco raised his brows. 

“With who?”

“A Muggle I met a few days ago at the park, he seems cute,” She said absentmindedly, eyes now fixtated on a random section of the wall.

“I hope it goes well,” Draco said politely.

“You really mean that?” Mona asked and Draco quirked a brow in confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Oh nothing- I just assumed you’d be very anti-romance, what with you denying Potter every time he flirts with you,” She said casually, and Draco’s head shot up. His eyes widened and a blush encompassed his face, mouth dropping open slightly.

“He- he does not _flirt_ with me!” Draco cried. Smith shushed him, but Draco ignored him. “That’s preposterous!” 

“You’re just too embarrassed to admit it,” Mona said, shaking her head fondly. “But if any man looked out for me and cared for me the way Potter does to you, I’d ask him out right away,” 

“But this is different!” Draco stated sternly.

“And how so?”

“Because- it’s _Potter_ ,” Draco said, flustered. Mona laughed again, shaking her head in exasperation. 

“You’ll go to that dinner at Granger’s, and I’ll go to my date, and we’re both going to give our men a chance, alright?” Mona stated, leaning over her desk slightly. Draco groaned.

“You’re ridiculous, Potter is not _my_ man-” Draco started.

“ _Alright?_ ” Mona cut him off, Draco leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling and closed his eyes with a grimace. Sometimes Draco truly detested how stubborn the girl could get. 

“Alright.” 

***

“Draco, you made it!” Luna pulled her cousin into a tight hug upon his arrival. Draco smiled, kissing Luna’s cheek. One of her Grindylow-shaped earrings swiped at his hair as he pulled away. 

“Where are the Gryffindors?” He asked holding up the bottle of wine he had brought in explanation. 

“In the kitchen, I’ll take you,” Luna said, looping her arm around his own and leading him through the apartment. Granger and Weasley’s flat was a bit smaller than Draco’s own, but very homey. Photographs took up much of the wall-space, there was at least one or two books stacked on each table, and small post-it note reminders were tacked up on any free surface. It was an organized chaos, to say the least. Luna and Draco found Weasley, with an abhorrent pink apron on, taking a tray of cooked lamb out of the oven. Draco cleared his throat, and Weasley turned with an eyebrow raised.

“Hullo, Malfoy- you can leave the wine there,” Weasley said in greeting, nodding to the counter space beside him. Draco did as told, nodding to Weasley before he and Luna continued on through the house. Draco ignored the pooling relief he felt in his gut when he spotted a mop of black hair in the living room. Luna gave him a strange grin, and to Draco’s shock, shoved him quite roughly into said mop of black hair. 

“Wh-” Draco let out a shocked noise as he fell right into Potter’s figure, bells sounded from somewhere though Draco wouldn’t be surprised if they were simply from his head ringing in slight pain. 

“Wotcher there, Malfoy,” Potter rumbled, setting a hand on Draco’s shoulder to steady him. 

“I truly didn’t mean to do that, Potter, I apologize,” Draco said, “Seems Luna was keen on using me as a quaffle,” He quipped and Potter laughed, squeezing Draco’s shoulder before letting go. It was when Draco truly looked up, that he realized the strange bells _weren’t_ just in his head. “What in Merlin’s name is _that_ ,” Draco stated, letting out an affronted gasp at what he could only assume was something that was supposed to look like a sweater donned on Potter. Small golden bells and baubles were strung about the front of it, ringing every time Potter so much as breathed. Flashing lights were draped about his shoulders and collarbones, and a set of stars shone at the hem of it. 

“A Christmas sweater, what else?” Potter replied with a grin. “It’s December!” He added, as though that would give some explanation to the monstrosity he wore. 

“It looks like St. Nicholas spilled his stomach on it,” Draco commented, head tilting to the side and his lip curling marginally in disgust. The sweater was ridiculous yet Draco found it somewhat endearing on Potter’s figure. 

“Well, Merry Christmas to you too, Malfoy,” Potter laughed. Draco smiled, shaking his head at Potter’s abhorrent sense of fashion. _He’s made you go soft!_ A voice in his mind that sounded awfully like Pansy told him. 

“I’m not soft,” Draco muttered to himself.

“You’re not what?” Potter questioned, eyebrows turned up cutely in concern. Draco willed his mind to stop thinking. 

“Er-nothing,” Draco said, embarrassed as he felt himself blush lightly at the tips of his ears. _Horridly soft._ The Pansy-but-not-really-voice told him. “Have you seen Granger? I haven’t said hello yet,” Draco then asked, and Potter nodded.

“Right over there,” He pointed past Draco’s head to the couch and Draco thanked him before going on his way, relieved to be able to leave Potter and his frustratingly adorable self behind. Granger smiled politely at him, and he joined her on the couch. 

***

“You’re really staring, mate, it’s creepy,” Ron said, pink apron still tied about his waist even though he wasn’t cooking anymore, waving a hand in front of Harry’s passive face.

“Huh? Oh, sorry.” Harry scratched the back of his neck absently, moving his gaze from where it had been stuck on Draco, chatting lightly with Hermione, a small grin present on his sharp face. “Just blanked out for a bit,” He told Ron.

“Right,” Ron smirked, “That blanking out wouldn’t have to do with a snot-nosed, white-haired Slytherin, would it?” He asked, and Harry flinched. A blush formed on his nose and cheeks, and his hand clamped down on the back of his neck.  
“Not a chance, just thinking about something from work,” Harry explained, though Ron’s laugh told him he wasn’t being very subtle in his half-assed excuse. 

“Don’t you mean _someone,_ ” Ron said, laughter still spilling through him. “The man just exists and you’re looking at him like he hung the moon!” Ron said. Harry groaned. 

“You’re not making it better,” He moaned, and Ron only laughed harder. 

“C’mon, drink up, mate.” Ron handed him a rather tall bottle of Firewhiskey. “It’ll help,” He said, and Harry gratefully took a large sip from it. 

At this point he would do anything to make himself stop thinking about how nice Draco’s light blue knitted sweater was, how cute he looked as he tapped his gloved fingers together in thought when talking to Luna earlier, or how great his arse looked in his- _okay, time for another drink,_ Harry thought as he took another swig and shook his head as though to clear his mind of the thoughts. 

“It’s not like he’s gonna blow up or something,” Ron said, “You don’t need to always watch him- it’s like 6th year all over again with that look on your face.” Harry huffed out a breath through his nose.

“It’s not like I can help it,” Harry said, “No matter what I do.” Harry’s grip on his bottle tightened, “I can’t stop looking out for him,”

“That’s pretty bad,” Ron said, shaking his head.

“I know,” Harry sighed, and Ron chuckled, patting Harry’s shoulder. 

“Well- it could be worse, it’s not like you’ve fallen for Hagrid or something,” Ron said in thought. The pair burst into laughter, Harry’s shoulders shaking with it as he leaned into his best friend. _Yeah, I guess it could be worse_. He thought, sneaking another glance at the blond. Despite Ron’s charismatic empathy, Harry couldn’t help the gnawing feeling in his gut that told him Malfoy was much too far out of his reach. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t at least try. 

Harry had figured there was something wrong with Draco ever since the Slytherin had collapsed one day at work. No one was around save for Harry, and Draco had just fallen to the ground in the middle of the hallway, slumped over himself and paler than usual. When Harry checked over him, he seemed to be fine physically save for the shivers wracking through his body. With a determined flush on his face, Harry had wrapped Draco in his cloak and levitated him to the medical ward- not regarding the strange looks he got on the way there. 

_Two years ago…_

_“Looks like a Crucio aftershock,” The healing-witch had told him._

_“Crucio- aftershock?” Harry had asked. He had looked back down at Malfoy’s paler-than usual face, mouth twisted up uncomfortably even as he slept._

_“I don’t know if this is my place to tell you this, Mr. Potter,” The witch told him. “I think you should ask Mr. Malfoy to give you the details.” Harry had nodded glumly in understanding, his gaze never leaving Malfoy’s form. Seeing the man in such a vulnerable state- it almost flipped a switch in Harry’s mind. How could someone once so imposing, cruel but set on appearing strong- be so weak and frail? It reminded Harry of that awful day in 6th year, seeing Malfoy bleed out before him, knowing one of his fellow students- death eater or not- was suffering because of him._

_That guilt had consumed him, but he had grown from it- and when he had finally apologized to Malfoy for it during the war trials- Malfoy had smiled at him. It had been a small one, but a smile nonetheless, tired eyes overborne with stress and pain crinkling up in mirth for only a moment._

_“Trust me, Potter, I’d much rather have_ me _take a_ Sectumsempra _than_ you _a_ Crucio- _I was mad, yes, but I’d always known I had deserved it in a way,” Malfoy had said. Harry was quick to tell him the opposite- that no one deserved that sort of pain, but Malfoy had cut him off, “Quit it, Potter, you’re rambling,” Malfoy had said. “But thank you- for everything,” He whispered it so quietly that Harry wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly. But before he could say anything more, Malfoy had then joined his mother’s side, and Harry didn’t see him until three years later when they both started at the Ministry._

_As expected, Malfoy didn’t give much of an explanation when he had woken up. The ex-Slytherin had his arms crossed and chin up when Harry had come to talk to him after he woke up._

_“There’s no need to make such a fuss, Potter. I’m more than capable of handling myself,” He had said begrudgingly, as though Harry hadn’t had to carry the unconscious git across the Ministry._

_“Is it from the_ Crucio _?” Harry had asked quietly. Draco’s smirk had fallen from his face, arms dropping to his sides as his body tensed._

_“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Potter,” Draco told him again, expression closing off. It made Harry want to rip his hair out._

_“You- you passed out!” Harry cried in frustration, “You’ve been looking like death for months! That’s not nothing.” He wouldn’t let Malfoy brush what happened off as something insignificant. Harry had seen too many people with lasting damage from the war to know that Malfoy’s condition wasn’t something to ignore._ He needs my help _, Harry thought,_ even if he never admits it. 

_“Why do you care Potter?” Malfoy’s stiff question had halted his thoughts. Harry was stunned for a few moments, lip tugged between his teeth in confusion. Why_ did _he care?_

_“I could’ve ended the war sooner,” Harry started quietly, and Draco’s head snapped towards him_

_“Potter-”_

_“I could’ve ended it sooner, if I had tried harder,” Harry took a deep breath, and Malfoy didn’t interrupt him again. Harry met his eyes, “There’s been a lot of people hurt because of it, so I blame myself- for this,” He said, waving a hand at Draco’s form in the hospital bed. Draco was silent for a moment, before his eyes lit up in fury and he reached over, grabbing the front of Harry’s shirt in anger._

_“You’re an idiot, Potter,” Malfoy growled. “The_ Dark Lord _gave me the_ Crucio _,_ Lucius _gave me the_ Crucio _. Whatever guilty, self-deprecating monologue you have going on in your mind I want you to get rid of it- I am not something you can just fix because you want to- you don’t-” A quiet sob escaped Harry’s throat, and Draco stopped. His grip on Harry loosened, and the air around the pair stilled._

_“It’s unfair,” Harry whispered. Draco swallowed, eyes trained on his own lap. “It’s not right. Even if the war is over, it’s not really- is it?” He asked. Draco’s laughter cut through their dismal reverie, and Harry’s eyes widened in shock._

_“Of course it’s not over, Potter, but there’s nothing to be done about that,” Draco said, voice softer than Harry had ever heard, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t heal.” Harry had smiled, a small smile, but a genuine one nonetheless, and the weight in his chest had been lifted- even if only by a bit._

Harry was drawn back to the present when Ron spoke once more, whisking him out of his remembrance. 

“I always thought he’d end up with Parkinson- who knew they’d both end up playing for the other team,” Ron said. Harry nodded idly, as he watched Ginny laugh across the room, arm strung around Parkinson’s shoulders comfortably. His eyes flicked back to Malfoy, where he continued to sit in polite conversation with Hermione, pale hands curled around a glass of wine. “I think I’m gonna go steal my wife back from him now,” Ron said casually, and Harry snorted before patting his shoulder.

“Alright,” He said, and watched as Ron approached Malfoy and Hermione with his hands on his hips, before squashing himself right in between the pair. Harry laughed through his mouth a bit, and sipped his firewhiskey some more, letting the burn of it in his throat distract him from the scene in front of him. 

“Is everything alright, Harry Potter?” Luna’s voice said in his ear. Harry turned to her quickly.

“Oh- yes, Luna, I’m fine,” He said, nodding, “I like your earrings- Grindylows?” He asked, and Luna beamed.

“Yes! Rolf got me them when we went to visit Russia, you know they have quite the infestation there in all of their lakes- it’s strange how Muggle-sightings have been so low with them-” Luna proceeded to talk about Grindylows for the next several minutes- Harry occasionally nodding and excitedly adding along what he remembered from his interactions with them during the Triwizard tournament. The firewhiskey in his stomach made him feel giddy and warm- and when he caught Draco’s glance from where he was cracking up over something with Pansy and Theo- he felt the warmth strike through his whole body. 

***

“I know we’ve both fallen for Gryffindors, darling, but you really shouldn’t make it _so_ obvious,” Pansy whispered to him. She was perched practically on his lap, and Draco didn’t really mind save for when her large platform boots knocked against his shins painfully. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about- and why do all the women in my life seem to know more about who I’m in love with than I do?” He asked amusedly. “Mona said the same thing to me earlier. You both really are alike, except she's a bit less of a slut,” He said jokingly and Pansy shoved him lightly with a smirk.

“Well, at least _I_ pull it off. But don’t think I can’t see all those doe-eyed, Hufflepuff looks you’ve been giving him, not to mention the ones _he_ gives _you_ ,” Pansy drawled with a laugh, and Draco looked at her in alarm, before sinking back down into the couch glumly. 

“You’re horrid,” He said, and Pansy rested her cheek atop his head. 

“Oh, I know, love,” She said softly. “Have you gotten anywhere with that narcotic case yet?” Draco grinned and shook his head lightly. 

“Yes! Bless Merlin we did,” Draco began to tell her about the discovery Potter had told him and Smith- when a great shiver suddenly wracked through his body- and everything began to feel very cold. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the wait!!! I had planned to get this out much earlier but a lot of family stuff happened and I was in a rough spot for a bit but it's all good now so tada!! i know it's late february but it's still like christmas time in the fic if y'all are wondering. A big big thank you to all of my betas,(tagging their tumblrs)@magickfluffy, @weepinggolden, @its-the-ultimate-fangay @paceybunce, and others im giving many hugs and kisses <3<3<3

“ _ Draco!”  _ Parkinson’s cry brought all conversation in the Granger-Weasley’s sitting-room to a halt. Harry’s attention immediately snapped towards the shriek. He didn’t notice how the Firewhiskey bottle shattered in his fist upon seeing Malfoy, pale as a sheet- even worse than that day in the Ministry- shivering like mad, with spit coming out of his mouth and his eyes rolled back. 

“He needs to go to St. Mungos!” Someone shouted. Parkinson practically snarled, and Theodore Nott glared at the floor beside her. 

“What will they do for him there? They won’t treat him with the Mark on his arm,” Nott said lowly. The room grew steadily silent once more as his words sunk in. No one argued against him. 

“I’ll take him!” Harry said, stepping forward quickly. “If they say something I’ll handle it,” He pleaded to the two Slytherins, his worry growing with every second that Malfoy continued to lie in pain on the couch. He hated pulling what Malfoy would call the “Potter card”, yet he knew it had to be done to ensure Malfoy’s safety.

“I’m coming with you,” Parkinson said, her tone affirmed and determined albeit shaky. Harry nodded sharply, and before anyone could protest, he carefully levitated Malfoy, took Parkinson’s arm in his own, and had all three of them through the Floo with a single cry of  _ St. Mungos!  _

***

“I guess being the Golden-Boy really does have its perks,” Pansy said as they sat in the waiting room; Malfoy was being attended to in one of the rooms down the hall. Thankfully the medi-witch who had admitted them didn’t give them much trouble besides confirming that Harry _was_ the real Harry Potter, as well as a few strange looks she had not-so-discreetly shot in Malfoy and Pansy’s direction. 

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” Harry said with a slight smile. Pansy tapped her nails on the metal arms of her seat. “I hate it, you know,” He said quietly, he looked at Pansy to see her regarding him with slight amusement, her mouth quirked up slightly. Harry couldn’t figure out what she was thinking at that moment, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He gave her a small smirk of his own as he continued. “But you’re right- it helps sometimes.” 

Silence washed over them, and Harry’s knee began to bounce, the faint sound of his shoe on the tile the only sound between them both for several moments other than the click of Pansy's acrylic nails on her seat. They were the only two there besides a woman who was fast asleep in one of the small chairs, as well as a medi-wizard at the reception desk. The small waiting room was sparsely decorated with holiday-colored paper chains and crayon-colored snowmen that bounced and danced in place. It was a tad pitiful how lackluster the hospital felt in its festivity, but Harry supposed it was better than nothing. 

Pansy leaned her head onto her own shoulder. “I would’ve thought you’d be more worried- with him being your best mate, n’ all,” Harry commented. Pansy huffed dismissively and sighed, resting her hands in her lap.

“This has happened before, it’s always frightening- when it does- but,” She rolled her head back to look up at the ceiling, dark hair falling beside her ears, “I know he’ll be alright, he’s stronger than anyone thinks.” Harry’s eyes widened at her words. 

A vision of a 16-year-old Draco Malfoy, weeping with shaking hands clutching the rim of the sink in the bathroom on that day flashed into Harry’s mind, and his knee stopped bouncing.  _ Perhaps he’s stronger than  _ he  _ thinks. I just have to prove that to him, though.  _ “He’s told me about you, you know,” Pansy remarked softly, eyes now trained on one of the dancing snowmen that hung on the wall across from where they sat. Harry swallowed, glancing now at her face. 

“I don’t suppose all good things,” Harry quipped, and the corner of Pansy’s mouth quirked up, her eyes smug. 

“No- not all good things- but he’s told me about you going out of your way just to walk with him each day, reheating his tea for him, silly things like that.” Pansy’s smirk grew, “Who knew _you’d_ end up being courteous to Draco of all people.” Harry felt heat flood his face a bit. _Does she really know that much?_ He thought.

“He’s told you a lot, then?” Harry asked timidly. Pansy laughed, quietly and full of mirth.

“Oh, he’s only told me enough,” She answered and Harry’s brows scrunched up in confusion. 

_ Enough? What does  _ enough  _ mean? It’s not like we’ve been doing anything suspicious! _ “I think it’s sweet, but you really need to watch yourself, Potter. Draco’s been surprisingly-  _ tolerant  _ of you as of late,” She smirked, and laughed once more as Harry’s eyes grew comically wide. 

Just as Harry’s mind began to rapidly produce visions of Pansy plotting his murder whilst Draco lists how Harry’s been stepping over his boundaries and making him uncomfortable, a medi-wizard approached the pair. 

“For Malfoy, Draco, yes?” He asked, tired eyes passive as he nodded at them. Pansy and Harry stood up, and to his shock, Pansy quietly hooked her arm around his elbow as they walked.

“He’ll be alright, like you said,” Harry assured, and the Slytherin nodded her head confidently, but the tremble of her jaw betrayed her. The medi-wizard led them to the small room that held Draco’s sleeping form. Pansy let go of his arm and strode quickly to Draco’s side, her eyes bearing concern as they darted across his body.

“His loss of consciousness was simply from lightheadedness caused by a fever, and we have him on a pain potion as well,” the medi-wizard started, and Pansy kept her attention focused on Draco while he spoke, her hands curled over the short plastic rail enclosing his bed. “However, the fever he’s got is one we’ve been seeing quite often in those who faced severe and direct trauma throughout the war,” The medi-wizard stilled for a moment, as though waiting for Pansy or Harry to comment on what he had said. The two remained silent. “From what we’re seeing, the amount of _Crucio_ he has been given has greatly damaged his immune system- so we’d prefer to have him stay here for a little monitoring and some potions that should prevent the possibility of any diseases. I’ll need one relative to sign on his behalf for that to happen, though,” The medi-wizard explained. Pansy looked at Harry, and he nodded.

“I’ll call Andromeda,” He said and she hummed in acknowledgment before returning her focus to Draco. It was eerie to see her so quiet when she had been laughing at him only moments earlier. 

“I know this may be hard to hear, but we’re trying our best to-” The medi-wizard hesitated when Pansy all but glared ferociously at him.

“Just get on with it- he’s not going to get better- his body’s failing him all because his shitty father was a fucking idiot and all you can do is pump some chemicals into him and hail Merlin, don’t try to _sugarcoat_ it for our sakes,” She said sternly, and Harry inhaled sharply. _With all that rage- she could’ve been a Gryffindor_ , he thought, and quietly apologized to the now flustered medi-wizard who was already half-way out the door, before joining Pansy at Draco’s side. 

To his shock, a quiet sob escaped her, and tears blemished with mascara spilled down her cheeks. “He’s only getting worse, Potter,” she whispered, “One minute he’s fine, and everything feels alright, and the next he’s bedridden, as fragile as glass,” Her grip on the rail tightened. “And I can’t  _ do  _ anything, none of us can,” She said brokenly. Harry felt tears rise up in his own eyes, and willed them to not fall as he tugged his lip between his teeth. 

Draco's mouth was slightly parted as slow breaths escaped him, and his lashes fluttered against his cheeks where his eyelids rested closed. Even ill and in deep sleep, he appeared ethereal. Harry looked to Pansy’s crying face, and frustration suddenly consumed him. His jaw clenched, and his fists balled tightly into the fabric of his pants.  _ How can she give up on him that easily?  _ He cried inwardly.  _ How will he ever get better if she loses all hope for him now? _

“Stronger than anyone else thinks he is,” Harry murmured, and Pansy turned her face to him, eyebrows raised in shock. “That’s what you told me, right?” He asked and Pansy took in a stuttered breath before nodding. 

“Yes,” She whispered as another tear fell from her eyes. 

“Then why are you telling me the opposite?” He said, louder this time. “Y-you’re not  _ helpless  _ to him! There has to be some way- something we can do- if you let him whither away because you think he can’t recover then you’re not  _ really _ saying he’s strong- are you?” He asked and Pansy shut her eyes tightly. 

“Fuck you, Potter,” She whispered slowly, and Harry clenched his jaw, refusing to retort. “Of course I’m not giving up- I want him to get better so badly, and nothing’s been working-” She collapsed into sobs once more, and Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen her be this emotional before. It felt like he was intruding on something, something he wasn’t meant to be apart of. That it should have just been Pansy and Malfoy in the room, not him as well. He pushed that thought aside and slowly placed his hand atop hers on the bed-rail. She didn’t react, her head resting on her forearms as soft, breathless cries continued to escape her. He squeezed her hand once. 

“We still have time. We can find a way, Pansy,” he said softly. She let out one last shaky breath, and controlled her breathing more, loosening her grip on the rail slightly. Harry removed his hand.

“I couldn’t believe Draco at first when he told me how kind you were being to him, back when you both started off in the DMLE,” she said, her voice was raspy from her crying, she rubbed at her eyes with her palm, “Who knew you’d be such a Hufflepuff, Potter?” She questioned, laughing shortly. Harry smiled gently.

“I’m going to assume that was meant to be a compliment,” he said and Pansy hummed. 

As the pair continued to look at Malfoy’s sleeping figure, Pansy eventually sunk into the chair beside Harry, and they watched the soft dip and rise of Draco’s chest as he breathed. 

Momentarily forgetting that the other Slytherin was there beside him, Harry couldn’t help but reach out and brush away a blond lock of hair that had fallen over Draco’s forehead. It was soft between his fingers and Harry let his hand fall to rest gently upon Draco’s chest, feeling the fabric over his heart for a moment before pulling back. 

_Prunella_ _ Evalesco… strengthens and enhances…  _ Harry thought idly,  _ there must be something more- something to help him without hurting him more… This can’t happen again.  _

When he caught Pansy giving him an all-knowing look, he decided it was time to phone Andromeda. 

***

When Draco woke up, it was to the sight of Pansy, slumped over in her seat, mascara stains down her cheeks, and one of her hands loosely rested on the rail beside his bed, as well as Potter, whose face was smushed into the rail, arms limp beside him and drool coming out of his mouth. Draco smiled faintly, before the memories from the party rushed back. He winced in embarrassment. So many people must’ve seen him fall down last night, it was humiliating to think about.  _ I’ll write to Granger and Weasley, tell them I’m alright and apologize for ruining the party.  _

“Malfoy?” A sleepy voice grumbled, and Draco glanced at Potter to see the man staring at him through tired eyes and crooked glasses, tangled curls falling down into his face. A bell tinkled from his sweater, and Draco chuckled quietly.

“You’re still wearing that monstrosity,” He said softly, and Potter’s mouth quirked up. It wasn’t until he spoke that Draco realized how parched his throat felt. His head felt like it was filled with cotton, and his limbs felt weaker than ever. He only coughed once, before a cold glass of water was quickly pushed into his hands from Potter. 

“And you’re still an arse, not much has changed in the last 24 hours, I think,” Harry replied as Draco sipped the water, and Draco rolled his eyes from above the glass. He handed the glass back to Potter, who set it on a table beside his bed, and attempted to sit up a bit more. When Potter reached forward to help him adjust his pillow, Draco weakly swatted at his hands, and Potter pulled them back.

“I’m sorry I ruined our dinner for adversaries,” Draco said softly, and Harry chuckled.

“It’s alright, I think Ron was a bit more concerned about your wellbeing than the state of the party,” he replied. 

“You think?” Draco asked, confused. Harry hummed. 

“You’d be surprised how many people care about you, Malfoy,” He said softly, and Draco’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Potter-”

“Oh, Draco you’re awake! Oh thank Merlin,” Pansy leapt up, pushing Harry aside carelessly as she wrapped her arms around her best friend’s shoulders. 

“Glad to see you’ve gotten your rest, Pans,” Draco quipped and she said nothing, only squeezed him tighter in her hold. 

“You really scared me, Theo too,” She whispered. And, eyes flicking to Potter momentarily, Draco raised a hand to rest on her back, drawing his friend in closer. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, and she clenched the fabric of the hospital gown at his back. 

“You should be,” She said, anger and fear laced in her words. Draco felt a wetness from where her face was pressed into his neck, and he sighed, shutting his eyes as she cried into him. Pansy rarely cried in public. 

“Maybe I should go-” Potter started, and Draco’s eyes opened quickly, before he reached out his hand to stop him.

“Don’t- Pansy’s just being dramatic,” He said, wincing as the witch hit his shoulder in retaliation. Potter smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkled upwards with mirth, and it was then that Draco noticed the deep bags underneath them. “You both didn’t have to stay the night,” He said quietly, and Pansy abruptly pushed away from him.

“You can be a real idiot sometimes, Draco,” She said sternly, “Of course we stayed,” She pinched the skin of his forearm and Draco winced before scowling at her. Potter was oddly quiet beside her, tapping his thumbs at his lap with his gaze pointed downward. 

“I just don’t think it was worth staying the night over, it’s not like I died,” Draco huffed, eyes still trained on Potter’s tired form. He was startled, however, when Pansy brashly stood up, red-rimmed eyes enraptured in anger.

“You could’ve!” She cried frustratedly. “You could’ve died, Draco, so don’t you  _ ever _ fucking question why I stay with you- why  _ he  _ stays with you- you’re not immortal, so act like it, dumbass.” Her voice was shaky but laced with venom, and she clenched her fists before pushing past a shocked Potter and excusing herself from the room. Potter watched her go with wide eyes. Draco let his head loll back onto his pillow, closing his eyes as her words sunk in.  _ You’re not immortal _ .

“That was harsh,” Potter said, whistling softly. Draco smiled.

“You should’ve seen her when I once borrowed her makeup without asking,” Draco murmured quietly, smiling weakly as Potter stifled a laugh.

“She really cares about you,” Potter said softly. There was a warm expression on his face, even as he avoided eye contact, that made Draco’s heart rate spike a bit. 

“It’s a blessing and a curse,” He replied, and Potter chuckled, tired eyes crinkling up in a small smile. Draco frowned slightly. 

“I have to ask though-” he started, and Potter’s eyes widened slightly, “Why, Potter? Why did you stay the whole night, for me?” Draco asked seriously. It didn’t make any sense. Pansy had offhandedly mentioned that Potter’s presence had snagged him a private room, but it didn’t make sense for him to stay once Draco’s attendance was assured. And besides, Potter always had  _ something _ to do, so why was Draco suddenly top priority on that list?

He watched Potter’s adam-apple bob in response to his question. Draco felt guilt stir in his gut as he took in Potter’s rumpled clothes, his poorly masked exhaustion, and the red mark on his cheek from where his face had been squished against the rail of Draco’s bed-frame. 

“Perhaps I am just some hearty, selfless Gryffindor-” Potter started, a strained, smug smile on his face. Draco scowled.

“ _ Why,  _ Potter,” He repeated, and Potter stilled, expression twisting into something unreadable. “Why do you always-”

“You always let me,” Potter said, eyebrows set slightly inwards in determination, his voice steady.  _ The nerve!  _ Draco thought angrily.

He didn’t  _ let  _ Potter take him to the hospital, or hold onto his arm when Draco got tired from walking for too long, or bring him his favorite tea from the store when they ran out in the ministry cupboards. He just didn’t say  _ no _ ; there lay a large distinction between  _ letting  _ something happen, and not saying  _ no _ . Draco opened his mouth to voice this strongly, when the door of the room suddenly opened with a creak. 

“I’ve come back with visitors,” Pansy’s slightly-sniffling voice said from the doorway. They both looked up, to see none other than Draco’s aunt, and a small tuft of blue hair peeking out from behind the woman's hip. 

***

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, our floo was broken and Teddy’s still too young to apparate with me,” Andromeda said, wrinkled eyes crinkling up in apology.

“That’s alright,” Draco said, slightly overwhelmed. The tension in the room was like a screeching tea kettle, the knob suddenly turned down so that the heat was lowered, the whistling now a quiet hum. 

“He’s been very excited to see you,” Andromeda said, her smile turning into one filled with mirth. The wisp of blue hair behind her suddenly became more visible, and a 5 year old Teddy Lupin stepped out from behind his grandmother. His small brows were furrowed up, and his lips were drawn into a pout upon seeing Draco’s bedridden form. Draco silently opened his arms expectedly and within an instant Teddy was beaming, blue hair now a cool shade of pale blond as he ran into his cousin’s arms. Andy took Pansy’s chair, which she had been offered immediately, and looked at her nephew and grandson with a fond smile. 

“I got- really  _ really  _ worried, cousin Draco,” Teddy mumbled into the front of Draco’s hospital gown. Draco placed his hand over the crown of the child’s head, holding him closely for a moment.

“There’s nothing to worry over,” He whispered, “I’m alright, see?” Draco said, squeezing the boy tighter. Teddy yelped and giggled as he tried to extract himself from Draco’s grip. Draco’s gaze flitted over to Potter’s for a moment, and nearly reeled back from the amount of warmth that shone in his green eyes as he looked at the pair. “I think there’s some people you’ve forgotten to say hi to,” Draco whispered, and Teddy looked up at him with a surprised expression, his mouth turned into an “o” shape, blond hair ruffled beyond fixing. 

“Oh!” He said, and quickly scrambled off of Draco’s bed. “Uncle Harry!” He cried happily, and Harry obediently lifted him up, kissing his cheek wrapping his arms around the excited boy with ease. 

“Hey, Ted,” He said, “Holding up ok?” He asked quietly, and Teddy nodded. 

“Mhm! It’s okay now, we brought cakes for cousin Draco, but it’s a surprise you  _ can’t _ can’t tell,” Teddy whispered seriously and Harry nodded firmly. 

“I promise,” He whispered, smiling as Draco chuckled quietly from behind Teddy. 

“Oh, hurry up and give him to me, Potter,” Pansy said, and Teddy brightened up, reaching now for Pansy instead. She brought him onto her hip and smiled at the child before taking his small hands in her own. 

“You look just like Draco with your hair like that,” She said, and Teddy’s eyes widened.

“Oh, really!” He said excitedly, “Grandmother says one day I’ll control it and make it any color I like- but I like it this way too,” the boy rambled, and Pansy smiled. “Do I really look just like cousin Draco?” He asked excitedly, his entire expression enraptured in awe. 

“Two in the same,” Pansy whispered, and Teddy beamed. He began to squirm a bit in Pansy’s hold, so she set him down on the floor where he rushed back to Andromeda’s side, hair flashing from blonde to light brown then back to his normal shade of blue in a matter of seconds. 

“Granny! Can we give the surprise now?” He whispered loudly, tugging on her skirt. Andromeda nodded, and rested her hand atop his cerulean hair.

“I think that’s a good idea,” She replied, and fetched a large basket out of her small purse. It had a large assortment of green and silver ribbons tied on the handle, and white tissue paper peaked up from the sides.

Draco chuckled behind his palm fondly as Teddy tried to lift the large basket all by himself, managing to put it atop Draco’s bedside, but just nearly. 

“This is lovely,” Draco said, smiling in gratitude as he placed the basket into his lap. “Very pretty,” He took one of the soft ribbons between his fingers, smiling as he read the TO: COUZIN DRACO, LOVE: TEDDY AND GRAN that was scrawled out in large blue writing. 

He noticed Teddy eyeing the basket with widened brown eyes, and Draco reached inside the basket to hand him one of the small tea cakes that sat there. It was covered in red icing with a green christmas tree on top. Teddy looked to Andromeda first, who tsked but nodded her head, and proceeded to eat the cake in two bites. The adults around him chuckled, Andromeda fetching a handkerchief to wipe the icing from the young boy’s face. 

Draco passed a cake out to Potter and Pansy as well, Andromeda having declined, and held back a laugh when Potter shoved the thing into his mouth in a manner rivaling Teddy’s. He bit into a tea cake himself, this one with silver frosting and a golden star rather. The flavor of lavender and poppyseed hit his tongue, putting him into a remembrance of eating cakes with his mother and father after spending a day in the Manor gardens as a child. However, Draco would’ve been chided endlessly if he scarfed cakes down in any manner similar to Teddy (and Potter). 

“I managed to sign those forms, so they should be able to get you some more medicine soon enough,” Andromeda told him, and Draco nodded in thanks. 

“Merlin only knows what they pump into my veins,” Draco muttered, idly thumbing the ribbon on the basket. With amusement he noticed both Potter and Teddy staring at the cakes in the basket once more with matching expressions, and handed them each another one, despite the look he got from Andromeda in return. 

“They wouldn’t give it to you if it couldn’t help,” Harry said through a mouthful of lemon cake. Draco scrunched his nose up in disgust, unconsciously reached over to wipe away a crumb from Potter’s cheek. 

“You’re appalling, Potter,” Draco said fondly, and Harry stubbornly took a larger bite of cake. Andromeda and Pansy glanced at each other, unbeknown to Harry and Draco; with a wicked smile on Pansy’s face, and a more exasperated one on Andromeda’s. 

***

After some time, Teddy grew sleepy, and it was when his head began to loll onto the side of Draco’s bed that Andromeda decided it was time for them to make their leave. 

Pansy would be leaving as well and had already phoned Theo, who would be arriving shortly. Harry suddenly felt very out of place. It was a Wednesday, so he technically  _ could _ go into work if he wished. However Hermione would most likely heckle him on pushing himself too much if he did. After all, a short night’s sleep on a hospital chair hadn’t really given him much rest. 

Molly would surely give Harry some dinner if he stopped by, though a strange, guilt-like feeling flooded him when he thought of himself eating a large meal surrounded by many people in a warm home, while Draco would sit likely alone and cold in the hospital room. Harry had never really thought about what Draco did on his week-day nights before.  _ Does he spend them with Andromeda? Eat by himself? Work a late shift? _ Harry hoped the answer wasn’t the last two. 

“Alright there, Potter?” Draco asked, looking at Harry with his brows drawn in slightly forward. 

“Would you like to have dinner tonight?” Harry asked quickly, a blush forming on his cheeks. Draco’s eyebrows raised, his mouth parting slightly in shock. His ears were tinted read at the tips, and he was looking at Harry like he had just suggested they go to a muggle amusement park.

“Potter, I’m quite flattered, but at the moment I’m a bit preoccupied,” Draco said with amusement, gesturing to his bed-ridden self. Harry winced at himself and waved his hands out in an attempt to correct himself. 

“N-not like that! I meant here- so that you wouldn’t be all alone,” Harry explained, feeling more embarrassed as time wore on. Draco’s amused smile faded slightly, but he nodded.

“Oh, yes I suppose,” Draco said, “Th-that would be nice,” He said and Harry grinned. 

“I, er- guess I should be going then, with Nott on the way and all,” Harry said a moment later, and Draco exhaled softly. “Six fine?” 

“Alright.” Harry stood from his chair, wiping the dust off his jeans as he started to leave. 

“Take care, Draco,” He said with a small wave. He didn’t see Draco’s returning wave, or the slight tremble in the blond’s shoulders as he left. 

***

“ _ Potter!” _ Pansy’s slightly shrill voice shouted from Harry’s mobile, making him wince and move the phone away from his ear. 

“Hello to you too, Pansy,” He said grimly. “What’s wrong?”

“ _ You need to go to Draco’s apartment and get his cat. I would do it myself but I’m a bit taken up at the moment- Gin says hi  _ ” she spoke hurriedly. 

“Tell Gin I say hi too, and er- what do I do with it?” Harry asked, "The cat, I mean." Pansy laughed through the phone.

“ _ And to think you’re the saviour of the Wizarding World,”  _ She said. Harry could  _ see  _ her smirk through the phone. 

“Hey-”

“ _ Oh don’t get all upset- there’ll be a bag of food in one of the upper cabinets- just give her a cup-full or two and then take her over to yours. I’ll pick her up in the morning,”  _ Pansy said, and Harry’s mouth twisted into a pout. If the cat was anything like her owner, Harry would be in quite some trouble. 

Harry sighed softly, and set his mobile down onto the kitchen table. He moved to the living room to start up the fire for the Floo. Grimmauld’s large fireplace huffed dust and ash at him, before the powder settled in and burst out green flames. Harry wiped the ash from his glasses, and shouted into the fire.

_ “55 Diagon Alley Apartment 7C, London!”  _ He cried, and stepped in. 

He had only been to Malfoy’s apartment once before, to drop off Teddy for a visit. He hadn’t been allowed in past the welcome mat, but that wasn’t important. 

When he stepped out of Malfoy’s surprisingly quaint red-brick fireplace, it was to a decently-sized and well decorated flat. Dark-colored wooden floors and furniture were accented by soft-looking blue and green carpets and blankets. A large grandfather clock was hung from the wall, with the Malfoy crest at its center. Harry briefly wondered how much of the Slytherin’s furniture had been brought from the Manor. 

A nice-looking tea set sat on an oak-wood coffee table in the living room. There were only three pictures that he saw in the whole living space: one of a young-looking Narcissa with a small Draco beside her, another one with a small Teddy balanced on the knee of a much larger Draco, as well as one that seemed to have been recently taken, with Draco, Pansy, Nott, Zabini, and Crabbe all sat together on a large sofa. A small Christmas tree sat in a corner, with ridiculously expensive-looking ornaments, but no presents underneath. The flat may have looked expensive, but it was also clearly lived in, if the stray books and slippers beside the couch were anything to go by. A soft meow shook him from his observations, and Harry turned his attention to a black cat, who was inspecting him with large brown eyes. 

“Well hello,” Harry said happily, he bent down to her level and held out his hand, suddenly feeling as though he were back at Ms.Figg’s house, getting to know each of her cats for means of entertainment. “Bun, isn’t it?” He asked politely.

The cat’s ears flicked back and she crouched before slowly stretching out her head to smell the tips of his fingers. She crooned softly, and fitted her head into his palm. Harry chuckled, and softly scratched the space behind her ears. “You like affection much more than your owner,” Harry said, and Bun meowed in response. “I’m supposed to feed you now, then we’ll go off to mine. How does that sound?” Harry stood, and Bun trotted to the kitchen, her paws making no sound on the soft carpet that lay in the living room. 

He poured out some food for her, before spelling the kibble-bag and her bed into his pocket. When Bun seemed to have her fill of food and water, Harry tentatively picked her up, and then floo’d them over to Grimmauld Place. 

The silence and familiar smell of dust greeted Harry when he arrived back home. Bun twitched her nose and sneezed when Harry put her down, and he smiled softly at the cat. He leaned down to stroke her back, before she scampered off likely to explore the rest of his home. 

As Harry stood in the parlor of his flat, he was flooded with a strange interest of knowing if Draco was doing alright in that moment or not- even though he knew that Mungo’s was probably treating him just fine.  _ He’s not a child, I don’t need to worry _ . He told himself in a manner Hermione would’ve been proud of. 

Harry clenched his fists for a moment, before he released them and walked further into Grimmauld. He changed out of the festive sweater, fondly flicking one of the bells on it to hear it ring. He decided to put it on a higher shelf in his closet, just in case Bun was the scratching-through-clothes type, though he doubted it. 

The clock read 4:00 pm, yet it felt much later, the weight of the previous night sat heavy on his shoulders. The party at Ron and Hermione’s felt as though it happened years ago, rather than less than 24 hours prior. 

When he went back downstairs, Bun, who seemed to have completed her exploring of his home, was curled up on top of the couch. Harry smiled as he understood where the source of her name came from: she truly looked like a little bun there on the couch. Harry exhaled slowly, he had two hours till Draco would be expecting him for dinner. 

_ Maybe I’ll make him something _ . Harry thought, and soon had rice simmering on the stove and vegetables boiling in a pot. 

Cooking was something that came natural to him, as natural as it could after Petunia had forced him into perfecting nearly all of the Dursley’s meals. Bun circled his legs while he cooked, and he chuckled before setting out her food for her, giving her a small piece of chicken for good measure. Harry looked at Draco’s cat fondly, and a small pang of sadness ran through him. She probably didn’t know where her owner was, or why she was in this strange new place. Harry bent down to her level and scratched her ears in the way he had quickly learned she liked. 

“It’ll be alright, Malfoy’ll be better soon,” He said and the cat blinked at him. Harry chuckled and stood back up. 

_ He needs to be better soon if we’re going to test the plant this week. If my assumptions are wrong and all we’ve done has been for nothing… This  _ needs _ to be our lead.  _ He huffed, and gave the bulgur rice a stir in the chicken broth. Harry then spelled the food into a container with a sustaining charm on it, and once making sure Bun was safe and sound, left his flat for the second time that day. 

***

Draco was nose deep in several large paper’s worth of notes when Harry arrived in his room. He was holding a large pyrex of something that smelled wonderful, and Draco pushed his glasses up off his nose to sit atop his hair.

“You’ve come well-armed, Potter,” Draco quipped, nodding to the container of food, and Harry blushed slightly, raising a hand to scratch at his cheek sheepishly.

“Thought you’d be famished,” He said, and he set the pyrex down onto the table beside Draco’s bed. “Where’d you get those?” Harry asked, nodding to the papers in Draco’s hands. Draco glanced at them and sighed.

“Smith dropped them off,” He answered and huffed a laugh when he saw Harry’s surprised expression, “I know it’s not flowers, but Smith said he’s been looking for other medicines and concoctions made with the  _ Prunella Evalesco _ to see if there’s any similarities, and this is what he’s found,” Draco said, gesturing to the notes. Harry’s mouth quirked up in a small smile as his eyes gazed over the notes. 

“You’ve got to hand it to him- he is pretty diligent,” Harry said as he looked over one paragraph that seemed to go on and on about the healing properties of  _ Evalesco  _ leaves. Draco tsked, rolling his eyes before motioning for Harry to pass the papers back. 

“Did Mona not come?” Harry asked curiously. He often saw the two around the office together, and she would most certainly know of Draco’s incident by now. 

“Smith said she was caught up in something,” Draco explained with a small shrug, “Were you not in today?” he asked, and Harry averted his eyes.

“By the time I got home it was already late, there was no point.” Draco’s brows furrowed together at Harry’s response, his mouth pouting slightly in confusion. 

“But you spend every moment you can in the office, you  _ breathe  _ your work,” Draco stated very matter-of-factly, Harry shrugged again and Draco huffed. “Insufferable,” He muttered, and Harry smiled. “What were you busy doing till now then?” Draco asked. 

“Curious, are we?”

“I’ve been cooped up here like an owl on bedrest all day, Potter, please indulge me,” Draco bemoaned and Harry rolled his eyes fondly. 

“I was taking care of your cat, actually,” Harry replied, and Draco raised his brows.

“ _ You’re _ looking after Bun? Merlin- I hope she’ll be alive by the time I’m out of here,” Draco huffed and Harry tched. “Was she alright?” Draco then asked, and Harry noted the slight concern in his voice.  _ He really loves that cat. _

“She’s alright, I left her food and water, and I think pestering Kreacher will be enough entertainment for her as of now,” Harry said and Draco chuckled softly. “She’s very friendly, I’ve been wondering how she got like that,” Harry asked with a teasing smile, and Draco rolled his eyes at the quip. 

“Oh hush,” Draco said, “Now could you hold off on being an arse for one moment so we can eat.” 

They sat there for some time, eating the cooked vegetables, chicken, and rice with occasional conversation about the case file, Teddy, Bun, Pansy, the medi-witch who had accidentally spilled a potion on Draco’s lap that morning, among other things. 

“You still never answered my question, Potter.” It was when Draco said this, that Harry tensed, setting his fork down onto the plate he had transfigured from a napkin. “Why did you spend the whole night yesterday? Pansy was already with me, I was perfectly fine,” Draco spoke with a smug lilt to his voice, and Harry quickly grew loathsome of it. 

“Fine’s one way to put it.” Draco’s face turned into a scowl, and he rolled his eyes with an exhale. 

“I told you I was never going to be your pity case, if you’ve gone against that I-”

“As much as you try to deny it, we’re  _ friends _ , Draco. I don’t  _ pity  _ you, you twat, I  _ care  _ about you!” Harry said exasperatedly, " _That's_ why I stayed." He  _ knew  _ that Draco couldn’t possibly resent him after all this time. He  _ knew  _ that he would’ve been out of Draco’s life a long time ago if he did. It was foolishly ignorant to disregard the fact that they both cared for one another, and Harry was growing tired of it. 

“It wasn’t even a decade ago that we wanted each other dead!” Draco cried out, and Harry groaned in frustration. 

“Well  _ I _ didn’t want you dead!” He shouted back. 

“That’s not the point! We were enemies!”

“Does that matter? We’re not enemies now,”

“Well we’re certainly  _ not  _ friends,”

“ _ What  _ is so awful about you being my friend, Draco, tell me!” Draco’s face turned to stone, and he glared at Harry in a way he hadn’t in years. 

“It’s not that it’s just-” Draco huffed, his breaths shaky and his eyes shut in frustration as he continued, ”Do you have any clue how it feels, to have your body constantly fail you, to have most of the people around you think that you deserve it- only to have the one person who  _ should  _ hate you the most- treat you like bloody porcelain?” 

“God how many times do I have to fucking say it? You’re  _ not  _ made of porcelain. You’re  _ not  _ the person you were. And if after all this time you still don’t think we’re friends, then I suppose there’s no point in me sticking around.” Harry’s voice was calm but laced with venom. He rose from his chair and cleaned up the remainder of the food in silence. Draco didn’t speak, but Harry caught his lip wobble slightly out of the corner of his eye. Harry left, and Draco still hadn’t said a word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been watching so much haikyuu, that when Pansy calls Draco a dumbass, i nearly typed "boke"


End file.
